


Assorted Drabbles

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: General, Multi-Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2004-07-15
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3864129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles written for challenges, prompts, birthdays, etc, here and on the H-A list and at LiveJournal, which don't form coherent enough sets to be published as a whole story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Council of Elrond

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

A gossamer-glistening autumn morning. Elves, Dwarves, Men and Halflings, brought by seeming chance to Elrond's House, meet in council to deem the fate of Middle-Earth.

From all corners of the West black tidings come: Dáin threatened, Gollum vanished, Gondor beset by shadow, and the White Wizard turned to dark deeds. For Sauron's Ruling Ring, made to bind all in darkness, was lost, but is found; and He seeks it.

Despite Dwarves' doubts and Boromir's urgings, It can be neither hidden nor wielded. And so Frodo will carry the One to Doom, though he does not know the way.

~~~

[Written for a challenge on the H-A list where we drabbled the whole of LoTR one chapter at a time...]


	2. Mae Govannen - Judy's birthday drabble

_"Ai na vedui Dúnadan! Mae govannen!"_

Relief overflows me, for in the gathering shadow he brings hope to my heart and strength to my arm. Elf-lord of a house of princes, Balrog-slayer, what terrors should the black Nine hold for him? As their icy darkness closes upon the Ringbearer his otherworldly light but glows the brighter.

Now Frodo is across the Ford, saved by Loudwater's rising, and those foul shadows would turn upon us - yet the white-hot flame of his fury sears them, and they scatter to terror and the flood. _Ai na vedui Glorfindel; mae govannen!_

~~~

"Elf-lord of a house of princes" is Gandalf's description of Glorfindel, from _FoTR_ Book 2 Chapter 1, Many Meetings. And yes, I like and tend to subscribe to the notion that the two Glorfindels are the same as well :)


	3. Leavetakings - Avon's Birthday Drabble

"See, Aragorn, I have brought you the Sun."

His smile dances with the dawn light across the white stone of my bedchamber; but he has known me too long to conceal the pain flickering behind his clear eyes.

Together we risked the long dark of Moria; together we walked among the Dead. For me he rode to Pelargir and heard the gull's cry; yet for me he has resisted the Sea's call these many years.

Now he will heed it at last, and in our parting that thought brings me peace. I wish you joy of the West, Legolas, _mellonen_.

~~~


	4. Seasong - Lady Aranel's birthday drabble

"What's her name?"

Legolas, turning a seashell over in long fingers, continued gazing rapt at the little group of musicians entertaining the company as they picknicked on the shores of Valinor. Gimli, exasperated, repeated his question with a dig to the ribs.

"Name?...Whose?..."

The Dwarf snorted. "That black-haired Teler harpist you've had your eyes fixed on all evening, of course."  He suppressed a smile. Legolas had lost Aragorn, Arwen, would one day lose even Gimli; he deserved love and companionship that would endure.

"I know not." Legolas rose with sudden, graceful determination. "But I intend to find out."

~~~


	5. Father to Son - Marta's birthday drabble

Blackness and stench nearly overwhelm me. Screams further off, closer only dying whimpers, and disguise forbids I ease their passing. Yet one chained in this corner can still speak, though he raves.

"Ring, my Ring... stolen from me - curse them! - last of the Seven..."

He breaks off coughing, broken lungs straining; little time left. I risk the faintest glimmer to look closer at his face, and for a moment sanity gleams desperate in his clouded eyes. He gropes feebly inside the rags of his tunic.

"Map... key..." He presses them into my hands, eyes pleading with me. "For my son."

~~~


	6. Olorin I was...

Vulgarweed's birthday drabble (that wouldn't fit in the title field!)

**Olorin I Was in my Youth In the West that is Forgotten**

"...Gandalf's grumpy, as usual." Peregrin's plaintive tones drift over. Without fire all are chilled, even stoic Dwarf and lighthearted Elf, and the damp is in my joints.

Yet as I shift to ease my sore back memory flares, briefly... _once I was not bound in weary bone and chafed flesh, but made of fire and air, follower in the train of the Lord of Eagles, alive in endless Music..._

The thought flickers, vanishes, in a flash.

"Forgive me, Pippin. I am but an old man, and my knees ache." I sigh heavily, and reach into my cloak for my pipe.

~~~


	7. Light from the Shadows - Alawa's birthday drabble

Shadowfax flies onward through the night: Pippin, roused from dozing, cries out as sudden flame races from peak to mountain-peak. Gandalf broods. __

_The beacons! Light in the darkness: yet will the flames of war kindle hope, or despair? Gondor's Steward calls for aid – but knows not yet that Gondor's King shall answer…_

At Dunharrow, three watch the Kindler's beacons flame white in the midnight sky. Aragorn is grim-faced.

"We go to war by a dark road."

Halbarad grasps his shoulder briefly: "Yet light from the shadows shall spring."

Legolas nods. "Hope burns bright even here, while you are with us."

~~~


	8. There and Back Again - Ang's birthday drabble

"Lot Forty; four handsome dining chairs - "

Consternation in the noontime crowd. The red-faced Mister Grubb breaks off, open-mouthed, as astonished murmurs follow an indignant hobbit elbowing his way through the throng.

"Mister Bilbo!" an eager voice exclaims. "I _knew_ you wasn't dead - "

"Dead?" retorts the late arrival. "Been away, vanquished a dragon, and back to tell the tale! Sackville-Bagginses bought up all my silver at bargain prices, have they?" He snorts. "Remember, Hamfast my lad: it does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near one."

He glances meaningfully at Lobelia, and winks.

~~~

"It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him" - JRRT, _The Hobbit_ , Chapter 12 (Inside Information)


	9. The Professor - JRRT's 113rd birthday drabble

"Now then." Elessar surveyed the company gravely. "Are all supplied?"

Gandalf inhaled whisky-fumes appreciatively; Frodo lifted his sherry-glass.

"Sam?"

"All right, thank-you, Strider, half-pint of Shire's best left."

"Merry, Pippin - ah," as they waved overflowing cider-tankards, "helped yourselves; Legolas, wine - "

"Father's cellars' finest," the Elf maintained, light glinting on Dorwinion ruby.

"Gimli - enough fire-water, what-do-you-call-it-"

" _Vodka_ ," the Dwarf rumbled.

"Arwen suggested champagne," Aragorn added, "but for old times, I think, Ranger's Friend -" Producing a battered hip-flask, he poured. "Boromir, join me?"

Boromir sniffed. " _What_ -?"

"Elrond's best brandy." The King winked. "So, a toast. The Professor!"

~~~

For JRRT's one hundred and thirteenth (eleventy-third) birthday, the Tolkien Society proposed that his fans worldwide drink a toast to "The Professor". Una pointed this out on the H-A mailing list and the nuzgul bit me. (I seem doomed only to write JRRT birthday tributes which involve the Fellowship and booze...)


	10. To the White Lady - Una's birthday drabble

**To the White Lady, from the Steward, upon our Wedding-Day**

When, in disgrace in my dead father's eyes,   
I solitary bewept my bitter state   
Troubling deaf Valar with unspoken cries,   
And look'd towards the East and curs'd my fate,   
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,  
Vaunted like him, with confidence possess'd,   
Desiring Boromir's undaunted scope,   
With living brotherless contented least;   
Yet thinking thus, myself almost despising,   
Haply I look'd on thee; and then my state,   
Like to the lark at break of day arising   
From sullen earth, sang hymns at Aman's gate.   
Now joy's anticipation such wealth brings,  
This Steward scorns to change his state with kings.

~~~

"The Lord Faramir was walking alone in the garden of the Houses of Healing... but his heart was heavy, and he looked out over the walls eastward. And coming, the Warden spoke his name, and he turned and saw the Lady Eowyn of Rohan..." _The Return of the King_ Book 6 Chapter 5, The Steward and the King.

With apologies to Mr. W. Shakespeare for shamelessly plagiarising his Sonnet No. XXIX; the vastly superior original may be easily found by Googling for "Shakespeare sonnet 29".


	11. Ring a Dol Dillo - Una's PhD Award Drabble

Henneth-Annuniacs, come charge your glasses!  
Let the celebrations swell  
With every hour that passes.  
Una launched a "little list" while TBT was looming:  
Now the thing is done at last, H-A goes on booming!  
Faramir and Eowyn send congratulations:  
Imrahil and Denethor add felicitations.  
Think of the fics you'll write  
Now there's no more thesis:  
Men and Hobbits, Elves and Dwarves  
And sundry other species.  
Heed no more Examiner! Fear no nightly Viva!  
Longer test than Grinding Ice; now you're a survivor!  
We all knew this quest would end,  
Be it late or sooner:   
List Mom Emerita! Our Doctor Una!

~~~

(written to congratulate Una/Altariel, co-founder of the Henneth-Annun mailing list, on the award of her PhD)


	12. He Stands Not Alone

"Now is the last chance," Mithrandir shouts. "Run for it!"

Run, or be forever entombed in darkness: _we cannot get out..._ Aragorn has Frodo; Merry and Pippin sprint before him, Sam follows-

Something about the shape of the air behind me makes me look round: no Dwarf. There the fool stands yet as though carved from the stone of his forefather's tomb.

_Doom, doom_. Afterwards I do not remember choosing. I turn, run, lunge as black-mailed orcs crowd in again; _I have him_ -

Not till we pause at the next stair's foot does he look up, panting.

"My thanks, Elf."

~~~

 Elena Tiriel's birthday drabble.

"The others followed; but Gimli had to be dragged away by Legolas: in spite of the peril he lingered by Balin's tomb with his head bowed." _FoTR_ , The Bridge of Khazad-Dum. Oh, and Gandalf's opening line is a direct lift from that chapter.


	13. Hands of a Healer - Forodwaith's birthday drabble

"Glorfindel was sighted bringing them from the Ford; one they bear as though lifeless-" Elrond looks at once from the breathless Elf to his daughter; she nods and is gone.

Opening and closing the herbary's many drawers with deft speed, Arwen lists methodically: _Willowbark, for fever; nettle, for bleeding; athelas, for-_

___Do not name it._ She straightens up. _All is ready._

Hinges creak: she looks round, then down.

"From the Ford?" The normally cheerful voice quavers. "Is-is it Frodo?..."

She drops to one knee beside him, takes the small cold hands in hers.

"Have courage, Bilbo. Here there is healing."

~~~


	14. What the Lightning Said

For the [Tolkien_weekly](http://community.livejournal.com/tolkien_weekly/) _Weather: Lightning_ challenge on [LiveJournal](http://www.livejournal.com). MEFA 2010 award winner - Third Place: Genres: Character Study: Gondor Drabbles.

**What the Lightning Said: 20th June 3018, Minas Tirith**

Sultry night hangs over the White City, hot and heavy as velvet. Every casement stands wide open yet even here, at the Citadel's pinnacle, not a breath of breeze stirs.   
   
A tall, spare Man gazes Eastward, where distant lightning flickers violently over the unassailable wall of the Ephel Duath.  His knuckles tighten on the window's edge.  _My sons...  
 _  
He turns suddenly on his heel, the sword at his hip glinting for an instant in the lamplight, and striding to a small table at the room's centre lifts a midnight-blue cloth, revealing a perfect sphere of dark glass. _I must see!...._  
  
***  
  
 **Author's note** :

20th June 3018 is the night on which the Ringwraiths under their Black Captain assail the Anduin bridge at Osgiliath, an attack which only Boromir, Faramir and two of their company survive.  Title filched obliquely  - imitation being the sincerest form, and all that - from [Altariel](http://www.tolkienfanfiction.com/Story_Read_Head.php?STid=585).


	15. Before the Black Gate, Second Age 3434

(MEFA 2010 Honorable Mention: Genres: Drama: General Mixed Drabbles)  
  


On Morannon's desolate black plain they face Mordor's vast forces; for a moment all's still, only the chill East wind whipping Oropher's standard, and as Thranduil takes one deep breath the true-seeing comes:  
  
 _A lone, fair-headed archer - my son-to-be! On this plain, at the heart of a hopelessly outnumbered force of Men drawn up on a little hill, waiting for orcs beyond counting to break upon them like a wave..._  
  
His head swims, for in an instant he understands what this must mean: _I will survive this day. And yet... in another Age, it will all be to do again._  
  
~~~~  
  
 **Author's note:**

For the [Tolkien_weekly](http://community.livejournal.com/tolkien_weekly/) _Movies: FlashForward_ challenge on [LiveJournal](http://www.livejournal.com).

This drabble eventually acquired a companion piece for the "Potter's Wheel: Coil" challenge, which is [here](http://astele.co.uk/stories/chapter_view.cfm?stid=8732&spordinal=4).


	16. A Dawn in Winter

A double-drabble inspired by heavy snowfall one December day in southern England. Dark places can be made very light by a fall of snow, and one Wood-Elf intends to enjoy it.

**A Dawn in Winter**

He knows it before he is fully awake, from the pale clarity of the light across the ceiling of his chamber. Slipping from beneath the warm covers he dresses quickly, pulls on cloak and fur-lined boots. Moving quietly through his father's halls, exchanging wordless grins with the guards on the gate, he takes a deep breath of the bitingly cold air, watching the steaming cloud as he exhales, and steps out into the dawn.  
  
The forest is a world turned suddenly white; every branch, every blade of grass weighted and sparkling with winter's blessing. He walks soundlessly on top of the snow, feeling it compacting beneath his boots. At the edge of a clearing he comes face to face with a fallow doe; they regard each other gravely, her huge long-lashed brown eyes meeting his grey-blue fearlessly. At last she blinks at him and steps delicately away into the trees. The rising sun washes the glistening drifts rosy-gold; the forest is utterly quiet, and when a bird landing on a branch dislodges a fall of snow, even that soft thud sounds unreasonably loud.  
  
For this one morning Mirkwood's gloom is gone, buried beneath pure white snow, and Legolas' heart sings.


	17. Darkness Beneath the Boughs

Originally written for the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Mealtimes - Breakfast" challenge. (And yes, the interpretation of 'breakfast' is somewhat... lateral...)

**Darkness Beneath the Boughs**

**  
**

The raid comes swift and violent; clashing chaos under dark trees. Confusion reigns, until -  
  
"They've taken the Gollum-creature! And Calandil, and-"  
  
Their captain's eyes flash. "Galathil, Rumion, with me. Taurlaegel, Falastir, break off left, try to cut them off - break _fast!_ Go!"  
  
They are swift and their arrows deadly - but too few, too late; when they meet hours later, in a clearing far to the south, they're empty-handed.  
  
"Do we go on?"  
  
"Getting too close to... Dol Guldur. I'll not risk the rest of you." Legolas slowly lowers his bow, defeated. "Now I just have to explain this to Father..."


	18. In Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old

Originally written for the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Mealtimes: Elevenses" challenge. And no, the interpretation of the prompt is no less twisted than "Breakfast" was...

**In Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old**

**  
**

Slipping and sneaking in the utter blackness of Moria the creature, well used to the roots of mountains, does not lose his way - or his quarry. He smells them, glimpses them from afar with his great pale eyes, even counts them obsessively under his breath as they grope cautiously forward:

"Wizard, yes - we doesn't like his staff, it burns usss, precious! Hulking great Men, two, three; hairy Dwarf, ugh! four; nasssty Elf, fiveses; stupid fat Hobbitses, pah! six, sevens, eights, nineses. Pony made ten, but they lost him, yesss. And we, preciousss..." - a hastily-stifled snigger in the darkness - "makes elevenses!"


	19. An Old Campaigner

Originally written for the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Mealtimes: Luncheon" challenge.

~~~

Crouching in what shelter Osgiliath's battered walls still offer, Mablung peers cautiously over the parapet.  
  
"No sign of 'em yet."   
  
Beside him the Rangers' rawest recruit casts nervous glances skywards. _He can't shake it_ , Mablung reflects ruefully; the terror of those bone-chilling, grating screeches sears his own soul still.   
  
"Wh-what hour d'you think it is?" the youngster quavers.   
  
"How's to tell, in this murk?"  Mablung glares at the louring, ever-darkened Eastward sky. "But since things are quiet awhile –" he rummages in his knapsack, the lad's face brightening as he pulls out a loaf, cheese, apples – " **I'm** calling it luncheon."  
  
~~~  
  
(The title is taken from _RoTK_ Book 5, Ch 1, Minas Tirith, Beregond's conversation with Pippin: "An old campaigner, I see. They say that men who go warring afield look ever to the next hope of food and of drink...")  



	20. Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

Originally written for the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Mealtimes: Teatime" challenge.

**Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost**

**  
**

"...so there you have all my tale, Bilbo." The lanky dark-haired Man takes a long pull at his tea, stretching endless legs once more towards the fire. "Dispossessed heir to a broken kingdom, wandering far from the lady I love..."  
  
"A tale of much hardship, indeed - but it will all end well, one day," the Hobbit assures him, passing more seed-cake. "How could it not, for one the Elves named Estel?"  
  
Only a rueful chuckle in response. Yet later, as he potters about his room tidying the tea-things, Bilbo begins murmuring to himself:  
  
 _"All that is gold does not glitter..."_  
  
~~~  
  
"I made that [rhyme] up myself for the Dunadan, years ago when he first told me about himself" - Bilbo, _The Council of Elrond_


	21. Once Upon a Time in the West

Originally written for the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Family Ties: Grandparents" challenge.

**Once Upon a Time in the West**

**  
**

"Tell me a story." Dior snuggles into the comforting crook of his mother's arm and the sweet scent of her raven hair. "About how you and Ada went to steal the Silmaril back from Morgoth, and Huan fought Carcharoth, and-"  
  
"I told you that one last night," Luthien protests, laughing. "Shall we have something else tonight?"  
  
"About Granny and Granddad then, and the Thousand Caves, and Doriath?"  
  
"All right. Once upon a time in the great forest of Region-"  
  
"Properly!" Dior squirms indignantly. "From the beginning!"  
  
Luthien sighs. "Very well. Your Grandfather was an elven-king, and your Grandmother a goddess…"


	22. Sudden Spring

For the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Water: Ice and Snow" challenge.

  


**Sudden Spring**

**  
**

When first I set eyes on her in the shadows of Meduseld, I thought of a birch sapling in snow; holding herself rigid against endless winter.  And when her icy shell began to thaw in the warmth of Aragorn's smile, I winced, knowing this budding hope could bring only pain to her and grief to him.

Now mere moon-rounds later I see her joy unfolding beneath the sun, basking in her Steward's love, and I am baffled by the swift season-changes of Mortal hearts; yet I cannot but be glad for this maiden who is cold and pale no more.  
  



	23. From a Strange Country

For the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Water: Puddles" challenge.

  


**From a Strange Country**

**  
**

Still, cold winter night in Imladris. Elrond stares into the fire, fingers steepled beneath his chin, unheeding of the candle beside him steadily burning down until its wax puddles on the smooth wood of the table.

_Reports from Tharbad, Mirkwood, Rhosgobel; no sign that the Nazgul have done aught but flee broken back to Sauron. And yet I am loath to move, until…_

A soft knock; as Erestor enters with a half-bow, Elrond catches sight through the doorway of two dripping wet, dark-haired figures. His heart leaps.

"The last of the scouts are in, my lord; your sons have returned."

~~~

"The sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, were the last to return; they had made a great journey, passing down the Silverlode into a strange country, but of their errand they would not speak to any save to Elrond." (LoTR Book 2, Ch 3, The Ring Goes South.)


	24. Grace Obtained

For the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Water: Fountains" challenge.

**Grace Obtained**

**  
**

"Go _on_."  Legolas nudges the hesitating Dwarf forward.  
  
She sits beneath the cherry-tree's falling fronds, watching light and leaf-shadow playing across white stone. Gimli approaches, bows so low his beard brushes the ground.  
  
"Lady, I-I-" he stammers; then remembers the crystal next his heart, and brings it out.  
  
"Many years have I borne this faithfully –" now his long-dammed-up yearning fountains joyfully forth – "yet it is to radiant reality as those dancing light-flecks to the Sun herself."  
  
Galadriel laughs, the unexpectedly-deep music he so loved.   
  
"Your courtesy is undimmed, Gimli son of Gloin," she remarks; and his happiness is complete.  
  
~~~  
  
"…it is strange indeed that a Dwarf should be willing to leave Middle-earth for any love, or that the Eldar should receive him, or that the Lords of the West should permit it. But it is said that Gimli went also out of desire to see again the beauty of Galadriel; and it may be that she, being mighty among the Eldar, obtained this grace for him." – _LoTR_ Appendix A.


	25. Till the World is Mended

For the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Water: Rivers" challenge.

**Till the World is Mended**

**  
**

His visitors abed, Tom returns to the sweet-scented fire.  
  
"Little folk are doughty folk!" he remarks. "So their War is ended; Tree-herds tore down Isengard, Middle-earth is mended."  
  
"Yet the once-merry Elf-friend is scoured, clear and brittle as glass," Goldberry observes sadly, drawing up her bare feet under her; "he may never be healed, not in this world."  
  
"He'll sail over Sea," Tom agrees, "beyond the grey rain-curtain." He inclines his head suddenly. "Hear old tawny Owl there! He wants his mate, for certain."  
  
The River-daughter smiles; together in the lamplight, they listen to the breeze whispering across the moorland.  
  
~~~  
  
  
"He [Frodo] may become like a glass filled with a clear light for for eyes to see that can" - Gandalf in "Many Meetings", LoTR.  
  
"I should dearly like to see the old fellow again," [Frodo] said. "I wonder how he is getting on?" "Quite untroubled,"[said Gandalf], "and I should guess, not much interested in anything we have done or seen, unless perhaps in our visits to the Ents." (Frodo and Gandalf discuss the possibility of the Hobbits returning to visit Bombadil when they pause on the East Road on the way back to the Shire in 'Homeward Bound', RoTK)


	26. The Lord of Silver Fountains

For the tolkien_weekly "Water: Lake" challenge.

**  
**

**The Lord of Silver Fountains Shall Come Into His Own**

**  
**

The Lord of Dale stands atop the newest wall of his restored town, arms folded, contemplating with satisfaction the bustling streets below.  
  
 _Grim they once called me, grudging that I see clearly and speak straight; but I shot straight too, when the moment came._  
  
Turning southwards, Bard gazes down Celduin towards the Long Lake: there, beyond even his keen sight, jut Laketown's ruined timbers; there in the dark depths Smaug's carcass rots, jewels slowly dropping from his hide to sink into the mud.  
  
 _One day soon we'll dive for them; and then the Worm's plunder shall make Dale fairer yet._  
  
~~~  
  
(The title is a line from the Lakemen's song in Chapter 10 of _The Hobbit_ , where it actually refers to Thorin; but since Gloin tells Frodo in LoTR "You should see the waterways of Dale, Frodo, and the fountains, and the pools!" it seemed perfectly appropriate for Bard too.)


	27. From the Balrog-Slayer's Mouth

For the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Water: Sea" challenge.

**  
**

**From the Balrog-Slayer's Mouth: or, Go Straight to the Source**

**  
**

"The very person! _Elen sila am lúmen vín govaded, nín mellon!_ " Running ink-stained fingers distractedly through curly grey hair, Bilbo beckons the passing Elf into his study, apparently drowning in a sea of parchments.  
  
"How best should I render this phrase – _wings of fire,_ or _flames like wings_?  What do you advise?"  
  
Barely a flicker crosses the golden-haired Elda's face; but the Hobbit sees and is at once contrite.  
  
"Forgive me – in my enthusiasm I forget! Doubtless you would rather not recall-"  
  
"We must all suffer for scholarship's sake, little master." Smiling, Glorfindel reaches for the parchment. "Let me see…"  
  
~~~  
  
 _Elen sila am lúmen vín govaded, nín mellon_   - "A star shines upon the hour of our meeting, my friend."  ( _Elen_ and _lúmen_ are Old Sindarin, according to Ardalambion. I have a hunch Bilbo might have a bit of a poetical affection for the slightly flowerier-sounding O.S.)  
  
"Bilbo's 'Translations from the Elvish'…were found to be a work of great skill and learning in which, between 1403 and 1418, he had used all the sources available to him in Rivendell, **both living and written**." - The Fellowship of the Ring, _LoTR_ Prologue, Note on the Shire Records.


	28. Our Days Are Ending And Our Years Failing

For the LiveJournal tolkien_weekly "Tangled Web: Knit" challenge.

  


**Our Days Are Ending And Our Years Failing**

**  
**

Legolas walks slowly back up Rath Dinen, Pippin alongside.

_So Merry rests among the great of Gondor..._ Hard to think of that small bier, shut in the dark. _Thus our close-knit Fellowship unravels, strand by strand. It began with Frodo's sailing – barely any time ago, yet a lifetime to his Mortal friends. How long till the whole fabric is undone, and only I am left?_

He keeps his melancholy musings to himself; _Pippin has grief enough._ Yet the idea of being the last of the Company walking in Middle-earth is unbearable.  But one thought sustains him:

_Gimli is coming._   



End file.
